Chapter 27
LUCAS
Ipull into the bakery parking lot just after four and see Holiday’s car is still parked out front. The lights are on inside, and I can see her moving around through the windows, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing one of those aprons that makes her look like she belongs in a magazine.
She’s already started working on prep for tomorrow, while I finished up my duties on the farm. Holiday mentioned she wanted to spend more time practicing for the contest, but we both know it’s not needed.
I’ve been looking forward to seeing her since I dropped her off at her parents’ house this morning.
We’ve barely texted throughout the day, but each time we did, I’d grin at my phone like a lovesick teenager.
I get out of the truck and walk to the front.
It’s locked, but Holiday sees me, and her whole face lights up.
She unlocks the door, and I step inside, pulling her against me before she can say a word.
“Hi,” I say against her hair.
“Hi, yourself.” She melts into me. “I thought you were working late.”
“This is late,” I tell her.
She pulls back to look at me with a teasing smile. “I’m almost done with the dough.”
“Great.” I bring her to the back and kiss her because I can. Because she’s here and she’s mine and I don’t have to hold back anymore. She tastes like sugar and coffee.
“Last night was…” She bites her lip.
“I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
She swallows hard. “Me too.”
We move into the kitchen and she places the dough she was working on in the fridge.
“I was thinking we could make some ice cream today,” she tells me, pulling out ingredients. “We’ll have to time it perfectly because it tastes like shit when it’s refrozen.”
“If it’s too much, we can ditch the idea,” I say.
“We’ll try it,” she tells me. “It was delicious. But I have a recipe that would work perfectly.” She’s already flipping through her notebook with handwritten notes. “We’ll want to make sure the texture is right.”
I love watching her work and seeing her in her element, completely focused and confident. This is who she is—passionate and driven and so fucking talented.
We work side by side for the next hour, mixing heavy whipping cream, sugar, and vanilla.
She precisely measures ingredients while I follow her instructions. We’ve fallen into an easy rhythm, moving around each other like we’ve been working together for years instead of weeks. It’s wild how easily we picked up where we left off. Never could’ve predicted it.
Every so often, I steal a kiss because I can’t help it. Or she’ll brush against me and I’ll pull her close for a moment before we go back to work. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
“What are you smiling about?” she asks, catching me watching her.
“Nothing.”
She reaches up and kisses my cheek. “Horrible liar.”
Holiday pulls the ice cream out of the churner and dips a spoon inside it, feeding it to me. My eyes go wide. “Wow, HoHo. That’s amazing.”
“It’s no Blue Bell, but…”
“It’s incredible,” I tell her, stealing an ice cream kiss. “I want to eat it off your body.”
“Oh, well, we can arrange that,” she says, pulling me close, when there’s a knock on the front door.
Holiday looks toward the front and then freezes.
“Fuck,” Holiday whispers.
I turn and see him standing outside. Dominic Laurent is wearing a fake, charming smile that makes me want to punch him in the face.
“I’ll handle it,” I tell her and head for the door.
“Lucas—”
“Just stay here,” I say.
I unlock the door and step outside, pulling it closed behind me so Holiday’s blocked from view. The temperature has dropped significantly since earlier in the day.
“We’re closed,” I say, towering over him. I honestly imagined he’d be taller.
“I can see that.” Dominic’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s dressed in clothes that look designer—dark jeans, a cashmere sweater, and a leather jacket. Everything about him screams money and sophistication. “I came to see Holiday.”
“She’s working.”
“Yeah, she can take a break.” His eyes flick past me.
“Yeah, don’t think she wants to,” I say, stepping to block his view of Holiday.
“And who are you? Her boss?” He looks me up and down like he’s assessing livestock.
“I’m Lucas Jolly,” I tell him.
Recognition flashes across his face. “Ah. Jolly. I’ve heard about you.”
The way he says it makes my jaw clench, like I’m beneath him.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“To speak with Holiday. Privately.” He emphasizes the last word. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong, bud.”
His smile transforms into something more sinister.
The door opens behind me and Holiday steps out. She’s taken off her apron and her arms are crossed over her chest. Her face is neutral, jaw locked tight, but I notice the tension in her shoulders.
“Dominic,” she says coolly.
“Holiday.” His whole demeanor changes, but it seems rehearsed. “I had to see you today. I’ve texted you several times and have received no response.”
“Yeah, it’s because I have nothing to discuss with you,” she says.
“Please.” He glances at me. “I didn’t fly across the world for nothing.”
“Go on, then,” she says. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to speak to you alone,” he mutters.
“No thank you,” she says firmly.
Something flashes in his eyes—anger, maybe, or jealousy—but he covers it with that charming smile.
“Okay, then. I can’t get you off my mind, Holiday. I think about you every day,” he says. “I’ve been in town for a day and have heard the most interesting gossip.”
Holiday doesn’t respond, just stares at him.
“Apparently, there was quite a scene at a wedding last night.” He looks at me. “With him?”
“Last time I checked, she can do whatever the fuck she wants,” I say, and not very nicely.
Dominic ignores me, bringing his attention back to Holiday.
“People are talking.” He stares at her. “I’ve seen the photos online. I read the articles.”
Hearing him say it makes it real.
Holiday doesn’t seem to care. “And?”
He steps closer to her, and I immediately take a step forward. He stops, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to understand. Two months ago, you were planning our wedding. Now, you’re here with him.”
“Two months ago, you were stealing my recipes and making me feel worthless,” Holiday says, and I want to applaud her. “Things change.”
“Do they?” His eyes narrow. “Or were you just waiting to end things? Tell me, is this why you came back to Merryville? For him?”
“I came back because this is my home.”
He sarcastically laughs. “I find it convenient that you’re baking partners.” He looks between us. “Are you sleeping with him?”
“That’s none of your damn business,” I say before Holiday can respond.
“Oh, I think it is my business.” Dominic’s charm is cracking now, showing something uglier underneath. “I came here for you, Holiday. I want to fix what we had. I’m sure you’ve seen the articles about us. I do want you back.”
“There is nothing you can say or do that will make me change my mind, Dominic,” Holiday snaps.
“This is nothing but a rebound.” Dominic’s smile is cruel now. “Come on, Holiday. Remember all the good times. All the mornings we spent tangled together. The trips we took. We were in love.”
My adrenaline rushes, and I ball my hand into a fist, ready to fuck him up. Holiday reaches for me, to stop me.
“You need to leave,” she says.
He straightens his jacket. “Come see me at the inn. I’m in room D.”
“Not happening,” Holiday says. “We’re over, Dominic. There won’t be a second chance.”
“I don’t believe that.” For a second, his mask slips completely, and I see real anger flash across his face. But he controls it, forcing that smug grin back into place.
He looks at me. “Enjoy your little bakery romance. It won’t last.”
He turns and walks away, getting into a black Mercedes. We watch until his taillights disappear.
We go back inside the bakery, and Holiday lets out the breath she’s been holding. “That went well.”
“I’d say so, considering he left without getting his face bashed in,” I say.
I pull her against me, and she buries her face in my chest. I can feel her shaking—not with fear but with anger.
“I hate him,” she says, her voice muffled. “I hate that he still has power over me. That he can just show up and—”
“You shut him down. You didn’t let him guilt you or manipulate you. You were incredible.”
She pulls back to look at me. “He’s jealous.”
“I would be, too,” I admit.
“He’s going to keep showing up, keep trying to—”
I kiss her to stop the spiral. When I pull back, she’s breathless. “We can handle two weeks of him. And then he goes back to Paris, and we never have to see him again.”
We’re standing in the middle of the bakery kitchen when she kisses me again. It’s soft at first, gentle, but then it deepens, and suddenly, we’re pressed against the counter. My hands are in her hair, pulling it out of that ponytail, like nothing else matters.
She pulls back just enough to look at me, her pupils blown wide. “I want you.”
“Here?”
She nods.
I lift her onto the counter and step between her legs. She wraps them around my waist and pulls me closer. We’re kissing like we’re starving for each other, hands everywhere, breathing hard.
I reach for the button on her jeans when there’s a loud bang on the window.
We jump and turn to see Sammy standing outside, grinning and giving us a thumbs-up.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter.
Holiday drops her head to my shoulder and starts laughing. “I want to be left alone.”
I help her down from the counter, and we try to compose ourselves before she unlocks the door. Sammy walks in, grinning.
“Guess you’re not even trying to hide it anymore,” he says.
“What do you want, Sammy?” Holiday asks, her face bright red.
“I heard Dominic was heading this way. Thought I’d come check on you.” His eyes flick between us. “Looks like you’re just fine.”
“We were working,” I tell him.
“Sure, you were.” He leans against the counter. “So, what is this?”
Holiday and I exchange a look.